Days of a Dog Summer
by Nytd
Summary: A Sirius Tail of Adventure and Romance.
1. Default Chapter

Days of a Dog Summer (A Sirius Tail of Adventure and Romance)

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Disclaimer - If you've ever read HP fanfiction, you know the drill. If you haven't, where on earth have you been? Anyway, it's not for money, it's all just for fun.

Summary - After considering the character of Sirius Black at length while writing him in other stories, I found him to be a more intriguing persona than I originally gave him credit for. I've wanted to write an adventure/romance for him for some time now, and decided that it should start at the end of PoA, when he and Buckbeak escape. Where does Sirius go? Why does he send Harry tropical birds in GoF? What does he do between writing the occasional letter to his godson? I set forth my quill once again in an effort to explain all.

As usual, I hope you have fun with this.

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Of Frogs and Princes ~*~

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It was hot in the taxi, an early '80's model Plymouth with A/C that obviously was not working today. '_Temperamental'_, the driver had said, with an apologetic smile.

And so the windows were down, but the slow speed at which the car was winding it's way through the little tropical island town did little to generate much in the way of a cooling breeze.

Matilda Dyer sat staring out the window to her left, resting her chin on her shoulder, and praying that the ride would end soon as she felt the trickle of sweat on her back cause her blouse to stick to the vinyl seat behind her.

Damn, but it was hot in Tortola for June! Thank goodness for the scrunchy in her bag that she'd pulled her thick hair back with so it didn't stick to her neck. As it was, she periodically would still roll her eyes up disapprovingly to look at her limp bangs drooping from the humidity, roll her lower lip over her top one, and huff them out of her face.

She took another look in the bag she carried with her. Her suitcase was in the trunk behind her that no longer latched properly, but was kept closed with twine. (The trunk, not the suitcase.) Everything she'd need to go straight to the beach after checking in was at hand - latest Michael Crichton novel, bottle of water, chapstick, sunglasses, sunscreen SPF 35, which would keep a few more of the tawny freckles across her nose from showing up in the sun. Hopefully the same sun would be so kind as to lighten her hair while she was on vacation - more blonde and less strawberry would be just fine, thank you very much.

Matilda looked out the window again, noting as they passed the few buildings in the little seaside town that little had changed since she'd been here three years ago. It had been a similar taxi ride, although not as hot, and she'd had the same bag, with the same contents, (the book had been Jurassic Park, hadn't it?) and the need at the time had been the same as now.

The need to escape.

What was she escaping? Most people would call it a breakup, a split, another failed relationship. Matilda called it escaping The Frog Pond.

Yes, _Frog Pond_ - with a capital '_F_'.

"Sebastians."

The driver's brief announcement interrupted Matilda's thoughts, and her eyes slid back into focus revealing the lovely little hotel nestled in the palms on the beach in front of her.

_'About time!'  
_  
Matilda peeled herself off the seat, extricated herself from the sticky red vinyl chamber of the Plymouth's back seat, and stood patiently next to the car while the driver flashed her another apologetic smile and untied the twine.

When the suitcase was brought forth at last, Matilda exchanged a 'thanks very much' with the expected tip for it, and quickly walked toward the hotel entrance, anxious to check in and hit the sand.

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Room Four was airy and light, with high ceilings and walls painted the palest of cheerful yellows. Curtains with a large, tropical, floral print splashed across them hung on either side of the windows, and the slider that opened out onto the walkway and then onto the sand. The same bright pattern washed across the king-sized bedspread and matching armchairs across the room.

Matilda set her suitcase down, and sat on a large red hibiscus on the edge of the bed as she looked around the room. The same room as before - her sanctuary then, as now.

"Sanctuary," she mused aloud.

From _The Frog Pond_.

Matilda sighed. That's all it was out there, really - one giant pond full of _Frogs_ -capital '_F_'. And none of them ever, EVER turned into _The Prince_ - capital _'P'_.

Oh, there were handsome ones, alright. Especially this last one - blonde, blue-eyed, buff. A real looker, and a sweet talker. But it hadn't mattered how much she kissed him, or did things for him, or compromised, or catered to him - in the end he was still a _Frog_. An unappreciative, unsharing, ungiving _Frog_ that made her feel empty and cheated when the three years were up.

Three years.

Three more years gone and no _Prince_.

Matilda had the unpleasant nagging feeling again that midnight was rapidly approaching for this little Cinderella.

Not that she was old - thirty-five, (er.. six, she realized as she made a mental note that her birthday was only a week away) was NOT too old to be a _Princess_.

"It's not," she said to the empty room. Tears came to her eyes, and she became angry at herself. She was done crying over him, done thinking about him. Getting rid of the last _Frog_ was probably the best thing she'd done for herself in years.

Time to regroup.

Time to sit on the sand, and read her book, and take care of herself.

Matilda wiped the tears away with the back of her hand, and cleared her throat. What she needed now was one of those tropical drinks, or maybe two, and a long nap under SPF 35 and the Tortolan sun.

She reached for her bag and went to the slider, threw it open and stared out over the white sand disappearing into teal-blue water. She smiled, knowing that this was what she needed. A rest.

A good rest, and then she knew she'd go back to the water's edge. Not the waves ahead of her, but the murky, unclear water of _The Pond_. She'd walk the edges, getting her toes wet here and there, looking for one that held a spark, a sparkle, a promise of _Something More_.

And then she'd close her eyes and kiss him...and hope once again for a _Prince_.

"One lousy Prince, dammit!" she cried out across the beach. A few beach goers looked around curiously for the source of the noise as she stepped out onto the sand and closed the slider behind her.

"I don't even care if he has a castle," she muttered, laughing to herself as she walked across the white, sparkling-hot sand. "Or money, or a kingdom, or anything..."

She settled herself in one of the lounge chairs on the sand in front of the hotel. _'Just a regular guy that loves me for who I am...for always. Is that really so hard?_' Her eyes rolled skyward, wondering if anyone was getting the message. She sighed and opened her book.

She looked out over the waves after a few minutes, too sleepy to read after the trip, and she decided that now was a good time for that nap. Time for a good rest.

Matilda closed her eyes, and was asleep in the blink of an eye.

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Michael Smithers had been driving the same route for many years now, and he had the same routine on Monday nights. Complete all of the run but the last two stops, have a bite of dinner at one of his favorite restaurants, and then finish up with the factory over by the airport.

Driving the garbage truck wasn't glamorous work, but it kept food on his table, a roof over his head and gave him a little extra now and again for the pubs on Friday night and the occasional odd pair of soccer tickets for him and his son.

As a matter of fact, there was a match next week that he was taking the boy to, and he looked forward to the visit with the twelve year old, as he always did.

Michael sat back in his chair, finally pushing the plate in front of him a bit further away.

"Alright there, Mike?"

Michael nodded and smiled at the waitress and patted his belly. "Won'erful as usual, Maggie."

"Will ya' be needin' anything else?" Maggie asked pleasantly, clearing the dishes in front of Mike away. "A bit of pie packed up for the road, maybe?"

"Ah, yer spoilin' me, Maggie," Mike returned with a smile.

"Well, someone needs to." Maggie winked and walked off with the dishes, returning a moment later with a small styrofoam box.

"Here." Maggie handed the box over and walked to the door as Mike shrugged on his jacket. "Seein' young Mike this week?" she asked.

Mike nodded and smiled. "Match at the end of the week I'm takin' 'im to."

"Good." Maggie planted a kiss on Mike's cheek.

"Bye, sis," Mike said, turning to the door.

"Say 'ello to young Mike for me," Maggie said as he opened the door and stepped outside.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Maggie."

Michael headed for the truck where he'd parked it in the alley earlier, already in perfect alignment for the pick up, and started it up, turned on the lights, and put it in reverse. One more stop after this, and then he could head home for a good night's rest after a very long day.


	2. Hippogriffs and Airplanes

Hippogriffs and Airplanes ~*~

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_THE_ energetic little owl was hopping up and down in place madly, beside itself with excitement at actually being chosen to carry a letter. It was taking this wizard absolutely AGES to finish the letter he was writing, and the diminutive bird leaned closer as it hopped, trying to get a glance at whether or not the quill was nearing the end of it's scribbling.

Ink splattered as the bird knocked into the inkwell, and it earned another reprimand as it hopped back out of the way, now making little black owl prints on the top of the trash can lid that served as a table from the ink on his tiny talons.

"Will you _please_ sit still!"

Sirius Black returned to his writing, casting one last warning look at the tennis ball-sized bundle of feathers as it managed to contain itself for maybe thirty or forty seconds before becoming overly excited again.

Sirius shook his head, knowing that his options were limited, and that this little hyperactive feathered monster was the best he could do under the circumstances. It was only a moment before ink splattered again, and Sirius yanked the piece of parchment off the makeshift table just in time to avoid the spill.

A snort next to him grabbed his attention, and he shot a look at the hippogriff standing off to his left.

"I'm glad that you're amused," he said irritatedly.

Buckbeak suddenly became very interested in a beetle on the ground, and proceeded to ignore the wizard standing there giving him the dirty look.

Sirius turned back to the tiny owl. "Look, I need just one more minute to write a second note. Do you think that you can hold still for even that long?" he asked in a sarcastic, biting tone.

Big yellow eyes looked up at him innocently from a tiny feathered face. The bird moved dejectedly to the far side of the lid where it sat there very quietly.

Sirius felt bad that he snapped at the bird as he penned the short note. 'I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby'.. "Oh, alright!" the wizard said, unable to stay mad at the adorable big eyes looking up at him. "Come on, then."

The birdlette instantly leaped off the lid, ecstatic that Sirius wasn't angry, and hopped onto the man's shoulder, nipping his ear in an affectionate, if not exuberant, way.

"OW! JUST...." Sirius gritted his teeth. "Just a few more words, okay?"

If Sirius had been wearing clean robes, tiny owl prints would have been visible on his shoulder where the not-much-bigger-than-a-snitch bird was hopping up and down with excitement again.

Another snort from nearby, indicating the hippogriff was still being amused at the wizard's expense.

Sirius took a deep breath and set the quill to the parchment again... _'give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.'  
_  
"There."

Sirius smiled at last, knowing how excited Harry would probably be to get this particular piece of paper. He folded it inside the first letter and turned to the little owl.

"Okay. This is very important. You're sure you're up to it? It's a long way for a little fellow like you," Sirius said.

The bird shot from his shoulder, did three loop-the-loops and landed squarely on the trash can lid. It quivered with excitement as it held out one tiny foot to accept the letter.

Sirius looked at the bird, and then folding the letter in half once more, handed it to the diminutive messenger.

"Be careful," Sirius said softly to the little animal.

The owl soon to be known as 'Pig' launched himself in the air, clamping both feet tightly on his letter, and shot quickly out of sight.

Sirius sighed. "I hope the little guy makes it."

A snort and a nod indicated the 'griff's vote of confidence.

"I hope you're right," Sirius replied.

The wizard in ragged robes cast one last glance in the direction the owl had zoomed off in, and then turned to face the hippogriff again.

"Well, then, I guess it's time we were going as well," Sirius said. "It's time we split up."

The 'gryff tipped its head and gave him a questioning look.

"It'll be safer for you to be on your own," Sirius said quietly. "I'm going to let some muggles spot me tomorrow, and I don't want any trouble for you if things go bad."

A snort, followed by the raising of head and neck feathers.

"Yeah, I'll be careful," Sirius said with a nod. He hesitated for a moment, and then spoke again. "You be careful, too, alright?"

An affirmative snort.

Sirius spoke more softly, feeling a bit awkward at saying goodbye to the only close companion he'd had in years, even if it was only for a week or so. "I can't thank you enough for what you did for me.."

He broke off as the 'griff took a step forward and rested it's large feathered head on his shoulder. Evidently the beast was feeling the same things, and Sirius rested his head against the animal's for a moment.

"Be safe, then," he said as the hippogriff moved away.

It looked back at him for a moment over it's shoulder, and Sirius raised a hand in a farewell gesture. The hippogriff looked for a second or two longer, and then spread the great wings and launched itself into the air.

Sirius watched the powerful animal climb higher in the air, moving further and further away in the nearly dark sky. It was only a minute before he stood there alone, on his own again for the first time in a week and a half.

A loud gurgling rumble from his midsection interrupted any sentimental thoughts the wizard may have been having.

"Right. Time to find some dinner, then," Sirius said to himself, patting his complaining stomach. He turned and walked down the darkening alley, transformed in mid-stride to the large black dog that was his alternate form, and headed into the center of the small town.

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Dinner, by Sirius's current standards, was an absolute feast. It hadn't taken the dog long to follow his nose to the back door of a restaurant where he was overjoyed at finding a large dumpster with freshly dumped trash in it.

Pausing briefly to sniff the air, the smells he detected confirmed that he was indeed smelling leftover sausage aroma wafting out of the open half of the bin, and he looked furtively around before approaching it. He slinked by the truck parked nearby, gauged the distance to the top, and then leaped easily onto the closed half, landing with a dull thud.

The dog leaned its great head into the opening, and sniffed, trying to detect where the best smells were coming from. A foil pan with bits of lasagna stuck to it was the first thing he found, and he grabbed it with his teeth and pulled it out.

Several minutes later, after licking the pan thoroughly clean, the dog poked his head back inside to rummage some more. He discovered a half eaten croissant a few inches down and devoured it in a single bite. More digging brought up an apple core, a moldy slice of bread, and two soggy shortbread cookies. All went the same way as the croissant.

The small amount of food he'd consumed just served to whet the large dog's appetite, and he delved in deeper, looking in earnest now for the sausages he knew were in there. He kept rooting through the paper, and the foil, and plastic, digging as far as he could reach from the top of the dumpster lid.

It just wasn't far enough, and the rumbling in his stomach drove him to climb into the open half and start digging in earnest. Trash flew about, some of it landing on the ground below as the black dog immersed itself in the refuse, desperate to take the edge off its intense hunger.

Another minute or two of digging in the dark, with his keen nose to guide him, turned up a glop of mashed potatoes stuck on a piece of greasy cardboard, and at long last, deep in the disgusting depths, he found them. Four rancid bangers, a prize that far outweighed having to deal with the smell he had acquired as a result of his digging.

The large black dog wolfed them down, pleased with the results his efforts had produced. He turned back to the garbage. His nose told him that somewhere in there was a stale piece of chocolate cake. 'Why not have dessert?' he mused.

_"Just keep in mind that chocolate is toxic to all varieties of canines, so be very careful what you decide to indulge in while you're a dog."  
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The dog snorted derisively and kept digging, amused that the warning had stayed with him, still in Lupin's voice, in his head after all these years.

Surely a small piece of chocolate cake wouldn't affect a dog his size, now would it? He was too hungry to care, and continued to dig.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks Maggie."

A new voice in the dog's ears, but this one was outside his head, and outside the dumpster. He froze in place, one massive paw poised in mid- swipe through the trash. Someone was walking his way. Closer. Very close.

Furry ears on the great head swiveled to catch the sound of footsteps a few feet away, the small movement too subtle to be noticed in the dark. Sirius hoped that the footsteps wouldn't come any closer.

They didn't.

The dog relaxed slightly as he heard the door to the truck open, and almost immediately the engine started and headlights went on, illuminating the opposite end of the alley from where the dog was.

That was close.

The dog resumed it's search as the gears of the truck engaged and it began to move. Unfortunately the hungry canine, with his head buried in the depths of the dumpster, realized too late that the truck was actually backing up. Just about the time he recognized what was happening, he felt the impact of something against the sides of the bin, and reflexively hunkered down as he felt it shudder.

_'Uh oh.'  
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Sirius realized at once what had escaped him earlier while he was in search of dinner. The truck parked in the alley was a garbage truck, and that meant only one thing...

_'Damn.'  
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The curse registered in the mind of the animagus even as he felt the dumpster begin to lift. He scrambled around toward the opening, trying to get a purchase on the shifting trash, but his large paws keeps sinking as he dug in more frantically. He made a lunge for the edge of the opening, trying to grab it with his front paws, but his back feet sank to the trash, and he couldn't get a good enough grip.

Quickly he decided that he'd have a better chance of gaining the edge with hands, and he transformed as the dumpster was lifted higher off the ground. Sirius slipped around on things he decided he was better off not identifying and grabbed the rim of the dumpster, just as the upward motion halted abruptly. He pulled himself to the top, intent on climbing out and then leaping down in canine mode, but it was at that moment that the bin began to tip, and Sirius slipped again as the trash beneath his feet started to shift once more.

The bin tipped up quite rapidly and quite far, and Sirius knew he was in trouble.

_"Oh, sh--!"  
_  
A small avalanche of trash, complete with one sticky and smeared wizard, tumbled into the small mountain of waste already in the back of the truck.

The empty dumpster poised over his head was lowered to the ground, as the already tattered and unkempt wizard sat there half buried in the pile of trash. Sirius remained there for a moment, gritting his teeth as he felt something wet dripping off his tangled hair onto his cheek. He raised a hand to wipe the offending substance away, and managed to smear a glob of something very sticky across his own face in replacement.

_'Lovely,'_ he thought. _'Just absolutely spiffing.'_ He wiped his hand on the front of his tattered and now even filthier robes.

All thoughts of climbing out were immediately banished as he felt the truck shift gears below him, and head down the alley. He dropped his hand dejectedly back into the trash at his side and blew out a large breath as he let his head fall back and closed his eyes.

_'What a night this has turned out to be,'_ he thought. _'First a hyperactive owl, then Buckbeak has to leave, then I have garbage for dinner, then I become garbage, and now it looks like we're going for a little ride,' he thought, 'probably to some great muggle incinerator.'_ He sighed and opened his eyes with his head still back.

Stars were everywhere in the night sky.

Sirius freed himself from most of the trash and found himself craning his neck back even more to look across the heavens. He stared at the million pinpoints of light in the curtain of night for several long minutes with deep appreciation for the view he'd not had for many a year, until so recently.

Slowly, as the truck rumbled along across town, a small smile began to cross the gaunt wizard's features. He might be hungry, tired, and smelling strongly of garbage at that moment, but Merlin knew, it was still better than Azkaban.

What wasn't better than Azkaban?

_'Nothing!'_ Sirius thought, and he flopped back on the trash pile, hands laced behind his head, and enjoyed the unobstructed view of the sky above, and the ride to wherever the truck was taking him.

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Early morning came, and the large black dog rose, yawned and stretched his front legs first, and then each back leg out behind him one and then the other. This was followed by an all over body shake that started at his massive shaggy head and ended at the long tail, and then he was ready to venture out of the abandoned factory where he'd spent the night.

Three things weighed on his mind as he trotted down a back alley and then a quiet side street - the need for breakfast, the decision he had made to let himself be seen by muggles today, and where he was going to go from here, pretty much in that order.

As he trotted along down the quiet lane, he passed no one until he neared the end. A small church stood at the end, and one of the priests was outside, trimming the hedges in front.

The black dog narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the situation. Here was his chance to be spotted. No one else was about, so it should be relatively easy to make his escape, and the local authorities were likely to believe a respected member of the community such as the priest. Perfect.

The large canine ducked behind the shrubs at the end of the hedge, and a second later, Sirius appeared in it's place, crouched down behind the bushes. He watched as the somewhat elderly man paused from his chore and set the trimmers down to go inside. Excellent. Now he could pretend as though he were breaking and entering on this very early morning, and be long gone before the townsfolk were really out and about.

Sirius took one last look around the area, and crept furtively to the large oak door of the church, opened it a small bit, and squeezed inside.

It took his eyes a second to adjust to the dimmer light of the church, but Sirius could see the priest no where. The doorway to a small room off to the right caught Sirius's eye, and he crept over to peer around the opening to see if that was where the priest had gone. He saw no one, but another door was across the room, and he contemplated whether he should venture ahead and try that door.

"Something I can help you with, my son?"

The priest's question from behind him caused Sirius to jump, and spin around, and nearly transform there on the spot as a defense mechanism.

"MERLIN'S BA...."

He been about to exclaim loudly about Merlin's nether anatomy when he remembered that he was in a muggle place of worship, and he caught himself at the last moment, and then wondered why he was worried about uttering something offensive if he was in here pretending to be a mass murderer and trying to make an unfavorable impression on the priest. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself, and then realized the man was waiting for him patiently.

Sirius drew himself op to his full height and spoke in a brusque manner.

"Don't you know who I AM?" He stared at the man in what he hoped was a menacing manner.

The old priest, appearing unfazed by the shabby appearance (and not to mention smell) of the man in front of him, fold his hands together in front of him and spoke gently in return.

"I do not, my son, but God does. God knows who we all are."

Sirius had opened his mouth say something else, but shut it abruptly and looked at the priest. "What?"

The priest continued on, reaching out and patting Sirius on the arm in a comforting gesture. "Even when we have lost ourselves, God still truly knows each and every one of us." He had obviously taken in the appearance of the man in front of him.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Don't _you_ know who I am?"

"Do you?" returned the priest. "Tell me, my son, do you?"

Sirius was taken aback. This obviously wasn't going the way he'd planned. He decided to give it another try.

"I," he announced in what he hoped was an intimidating tone, "am Sirius Black!"

The priest looked unruffled, and blinked calmly.

"Don't you know what I've _done_?" Sirius demanded, now getting a little frustrated.

The priest came to stand alongside and spoke benevolently. "Do you feel the need to tell me?"

"What?" Sirius asked, now puzzled as well as frustrated.

"We've all done things that we're not proud of, my son. All of us have sinned," the priest continued, looking beatifically at Sirius. "Do you wish to confess?"

Okay, now he was getting somewhere. This ought to jog the man's memory.

"Yes!" Sirius replied. "Yes I do." He went on in a more dramatic voice. " I am Sirius Black, responsible for..."

He broke off as he realized the priest was walking away from him.

"The confessional is this way." The priest walked a short ways away and opened the door to a closet.

Sirius just stared at the man, dumfounded as he realized that the priest was actually indicating that he should step into the closet. "In there?" Sirius asked.

The priest nodded reassuringly.

_'Of all the...'_ Sirius rolled his eyes and trudged over to the small booth, watching as the priest stepped into a similar closet adjacent to it and closed the door.

When the priest was out of sight, Sirius took one look at the small, dark space that he was expected to climb into, and shuddered. "Noooooo thank you," he said under his breath.

The priest waited for several moments, and at last, when he still hadn't heard Sirius step into the confessional, he opened the door to his own chamber and peered out. Seeing no one, he glanced at the door to the church, expecting that his shabby visitor had changed his mind and fled.

He caught sight of a movement there just before the door closed, and he rubbed his eyes and looked again. He'd sworn he'd seen a large furry tail disappearing through the door. He frowned for just a moment, and then shrugged and wrote it off to dim lighting.

It wouldn't be until he saw the evening news reports that he would have any idea about the identity of his early morning visitor.

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The large black dog trotted quickly down the next street and away from the church, glad to put that little fiasco behind him. _That _had accomplished nothing, and he was still hungry, undiscovered, and destination-less. It was once again his nose that provided the solution to the first two items on the list.

As he trotted along he picked up the aroma of freshly baked bread coming from a small building up ahead, and he wondered if maybe it was a bakery. A bakery would be just the thing he needed - he could pop in a steal a nice breakfast for himself in human form, terrifying some muggles along the way. His stomach would then stop rumbling, and the subsequent report of his sighting this far south would allow them to remove the unpleasant security in place at Hogwarts. Excellent.

He stopped outside one of the windows, and put his front paws up on the sill to peer in and assess the situation. There were two women in the storefront, one behind the counter, and one in front, obviously engaged in conversation. The black dog narrowed its eyes. Perfect. Each one would corroborate the other's sighting of the escaped convict. He dropped back onto all fours, and ducked around the side of the building to transform.

Sirius turned back and headed for the door. He'd already spied where the loaves of bread were stacked on the counter, and he planned to make a quick grab, pausing just long enough for the ladies to in a good look and a good scream. Then it would be off to some quiet secluded spot to have a leisurely breakfast and ponder where he was headed for next.

He hesitated for a moment outside the door and sniffed. If the sight of him didn't set those women a-screaming, the smell of him certainly would. He took in a deep breath, (although not through his nose) blew it out, and walked boldly in.

The two women were so busy chatting, that they barely spared him a glance when he stepped up to the counter a few feet away and began picking up loaves of bread. It was, however, only about three seconds before each of them broke off and slowly turned wide-eyed expressions toward the newcomer. They stared at him in unison, open-mouthed, and Sirius stared back.

Several seconds went by as the two mouths opened wider and wider in shock at who they were seeing, and Sirius decided to speed things along. He squinted at them and spoke.

"BOO!"

Instantaneous screaming filled the store, and Sirius was a little pleased with himself for finally getting a reaction.

He became less pleased pretty darn quickly.

The screaming he'd expected, but what he wasn't anticipating was that the one in front and the one in back would continue screaming but also assault him with an over-stuffed handbag and a rolling pin, respectively.

"YOU BEAST!" _'whap!'  
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"MONSTER!" _'whack!'  
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"MURDERER!" _'whap! whap!'  
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"CALL THE POLICE!" _'thunk!'_

Sirius backpedaled as fast as he could, scattering the bread he was dropping, and raised his arms to defend himself. It was apparent to him at that instant, that despite his infamous reputation, he was clearly the least dangerous person in the bakery.

He managed to salvage a lone loaf of bread, and bolted from the store as fast as he could.

Two blocks away, the heart of the black dog was still pounding furiously as he slowed to a trot and came to an intersection.

He was thanking his lucky star (most likely the brightest one in Canus major) that there hadn't been any police within screaming distance, or things would have gotten a lot more messy.

He looked both ways and crossed the street a short ways ahead of an approaching van. Yup, very lucky indeed. A run in with the authorities was not what he..

The black dog, unlike most if they were in his exact location, felt his blood go cold as the van turned down the street he was now only. Mostly because of the fact that as far as he knew, there were no other dogs that could read the words 'Animal Control' stenciled on the side of the van.

_'Uh oh.'  
_  
Sirius knew that he couldn't risk a transformation - he hadn't put enough distance or time between himself and the bakery incident.

He continued at a casual trot, pretending to be oblivious to the nature of the vehicle behind him and trying to decide what to do as it followed along behind him. It followed him for another couple of blocks, and visions of snares and leashes and tranquilizer guns as it crept closer finally prompted him to make a run for it.

The great black dog bolted, and the van changed gears and sped up behind him.

Sirius cut sharply off to the right and charged across the yard of a small house, knowing the van couldn't follow to the next street. He'd nearly made it to the other side of the block when he spotted the police car. Normally he would have ignored it, but a wary glance confirmed that one of the two officers was pointing in his direction. He veered left, ran through several yards and then turned left again, coming back out onto the first road a short way ahead of the Animal Control van.

Things were going downhill. He caught glimpses between houses as he ran of the police car on the next street following his progress, a worried glance over his shoulder confirmed that the van was right on his tail, and worst of all, he knew he couldn't keep this up indefinitely.

He kept running, trying to keep track of where the two vehicles were. In his haste and preoccupation with the cars, he failed to notice that the road was coming to a dead end, and he screeched to a halt at the last moment, just before he ran headlong into the chain link fence.

The van pulled to a stop just behind him and to his left, and two uniformed men got out. The dog turned to go right, only to see the police car now cutting off that direction for escape.

He looked left, and saw the two nooses the men were carrying, and glanced frantically back at the fence.

The road continued on the other side, but was blocked by a chained and padlocked gate at that point in the fence.

_'Damn.'_

Sirius looked at the top of the 8 foot fence. Where was that blasted hippogriff now?

Police officers closed to his right, ACO's to his left. Sirius knew his only chance was over the fence. He ran back a couple of paces, whirled, and leaped for everything he was worth at the fence.

The impact of the great dog caused chain link to rattle for several yards in either direction as he hit it and managed to just hook his front paws over the top. He pulled for everything he was worth as the four men behind him started to run towards the fence, and scrambled with his back feet for any sort of purchase he could get. Several toes finally grabbed a couple links of fence, and he was able to propel himself upward.

He gained the top and leaped off without hesitation, landing heavily on the ground on the other side. A quick look confirmed that they were not going to follow; they all knew that the dog would put too much distance between himself and the fence before any of them could climb over. Sirius bounded away without a second glance.

He found himself out in the middle of a very, very large open area with several long paved pathways of asphalt. Several low buildings were off in the distance a ways, and the dog slowed to a steady trot as he headed for them. A moment or two later, flashing lights caught his eye, and he realized that some sort of security vehicle was racing his direction.

Whether or not the vehicle was after him, Sirius didn't know, but he wasn't taking any chances, and he ran for a nearer very large building. When he ducked in the huge opening in the front, he finally understood where he was.

A muggle airport.

Ahead of him was a large cavernous opening with several large planes inside, and it dawned on the animagus that he must have climbed over the perimeter security fence before making it to this hanger.

People were bustling about off to one side, but no one had notice him yet, and he slunk down one wall on the far side of a large plane from where the activity was. His intent was to make it to the back of the hangar to see if there was a way out, but the arrival of the security vehicle back by the entrance bay sent him immediately to plan B.

Which was to duck into the first likely hiding spot he could find.

*

*

*

*

TBC....


	3. Jolene

Jolene ~*~

*

*

*

_OFF_ in the distance, far up near the surface of consciousness, a persistent rumbling sound was finally reaching down into the depths of sleep and tugging at the sleeve of awareness that belonged to the great black dog.

One sleepy pale eye opened and then the other, and it was a good ten seconds before foggy recollection of where he was began to slide into focus.

He'd been desperate to avoid a confrontation (and another marathon run) with the airport security vehicle, so he'd plowed up a set of rickety roll-away stairs into the closest dark space, and had spent the better part of half an hour hunkered down between a lot of large crates and boxes.

When it became clear that it was unlikely anyone would find him there, (someone had eventually slammed the door home with dull 'boom') exhaustion from his adventure caught up to him even if none of his pursuers had. Curled up in a corner behind a large packing crate, he'd dozed off, undisturbed until now.

The dog felt a faint shudder of his surroundings, and then a second, and sat up to take a look around. It didn't take him long, as the intermittent tremors continued, to decide that he was moving.

Panic slapped him in the face, snapping him into complete awareness, and he jumped to his feet trying to decide what to do. After the initial instinctive alarm reaction of the dog, the animagus forced the rational part of his mind to think things out, one step at a time. He was on a plane. The plane was moving. A moving plane was probably about to take had no idea where he was going. He was hungry.

Ok, so not so much had changed since he first woke up earlier that morning, except the decision about where he was going to head next had obviously been taken out of his paws.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. He was sure by now that the two women at the bakery had long since called the police, and it would only be a short time before news made it to the wizard authorities as well. That meant it should probably only be a day or so before Hogwarts was out from under Ministry security, and life would become a tiny bit easier for his godson.

The jet black dog plunked his hindquarters down and turned his thoughts to James's son again, and how much the boy had been through last week.

How much they'd all been through last week. The dog let his front legs slide forward until the front half of him came to rest on the ground with a '_thunk'_ as well.

As much as things were a frightful mess right now, he was better off than he'd been a week and a half ago. True, he was still on the run, and Pettigrew had gotten away, ('Damn you, Wormtail!') but now Harry, his godchild, and son of his best friend, knew he was innocent. And on top of it all, Remus now knew the truth.

Sirius appeared, lying on the floor, propped up on one elbow, where the dog had been. _'Ah, Remus old pal,'_ he thought, and reflected more on the werewolf that was his closest remaining friend.

It pained him, as always, to consider the fact that up until the night in the Shrieking Shack, Remus had thought he was the one to betray Lily and James. Of course, he felt guilty about the fact that he'd thought Remus was untrustworthy for a period of time as well.

Not that it wouldn't have been an easy thing for someone else to assume. Too much information that only a handful of the closest wizards around Dumbledore knew was being leaked to the Dark Lord. Of course, Remus was the easiest one to suspect, (Sirius cringed again, mentally) being a werewolf, a dark creature that stood a great deal to gain if he aligned himself with Voldemort. It was only too simple to draw such a conclusion.

_'But it shouldn't have been, damn it_!' Sirius thought, angry at himself once again. _'It was REMUS we were talking about. Of all people! Why I could ever have thought that thoughtful, helpful, tolerant, understanding Remus would have ever gone over to the other side, I just don't know._'

Sirius sighed. _'Don't beat yourself up over that too, Padfoot. Remus understands.'_ The thought actually made him feel worse. Remus was always understanding. He'd forgiven Sirius on the spot the moment he knew the truth about the rat, but Sirius still had trouble forgiving himself.

By the way the cargo hold around him lurched, Sirius guessed that they were now airborne. It felt as if they were climbing.

_'But at the time, why would any of us have ever suspected Peter?'_ Sirius argued with himself for the thousandth time. _'I mean, Peter? Ha! Could barely get out of the way fast enough if his own shadow spooked him. Who would have ever thought that he'd have the nerve to deal with Voldemort? Certainly no one if not even his three best friends did_.'

Two of his best friends knew better now, didn't they? Sirius moaned, and laying his head on the floor, covered his face with his hands. 'And James would have, but it was too late by the time James realized that Peter was the traitor.' Sirius could hear the elder Potter's perpetually jovial voice in his head. "We shoulda known, Padfoot ol' chum. I mean, have you ever seen the size of the balls on a rat?"

Sirius snickered to himself as he imagined what James would have said. The thought had struck him funny, and he continued to chuckle with his head in his hands until at last, he realized that his hands were damp. He sat up abruptly, and shook his head, blinking back the tears that were stinging his eyes, and then he cleared his throat.

He could tell by the way the cargo hold leveled out that they had stopped climbing so much.

_'Enough of that,'_ he admonished himself. _'What's done is done, and now it's up to me to do what I can to put things right.'  
_  
"I won't let you down again, James," Sirius said softly to the dimly lit chamber.

*

*

If you're hungry and there's nothing to eat, and the thoughts in your mind that play over and over just make your head hurt, then the best thing to do is take a nap. A long one if you're stuck in the cargo hold of a chartered plane destined for an unknown location.

Sirius was used to passing long periods of time away, and it was nothing for him to curl up as the great bear-like dog, and let his mind drift into blissful canine blankness. The hours that crept by were nothing to the months and years he had done the same thing over.

He remembered waking twice, briefly. Once to get up and turn in a circle three times before finding a comfortable new position, (which to the untrained non-canine eye might appear to be the same one he was just in) and once when he felt the plane shudder for a few moments with some passing turbulence.

This was the third time he had woken since his little airborne adventure had begun, and he sat up in human form, to consider what had awakened him. He yawned and stretched, and suddenly he felt a popping sensation in his ears. He knew that meant that they were changing altitudes. He'd rarely risked flying high enough on a broom in his younger day to have experienced the popping feeling, but then again, a broom wasn't the only way he'd ever flown, now was it?

Sirius leaned back to prop himself up against the wall, and smiled as he reminisced about one of his true loves.

Jolene.

She was a beauty, alright, and he'd poured his heart and soul into that bike, "customizing" it just the way he wanted.

Sirius smiled, thinking back to the day he'd finally brought her over to introduce her to James and Remus. She was a 1980 Harley-Davidson FLH Electra Glide -1340cc, custom pipes, SU carb-fitted, midnight blue and downright GORGEOUS.

He remembered parking her outside the Potters' house one visit, and draping a matching cover over her for a dramatic unveiling. Remus knew he was up to something with the motorcycle, but she'd been his little secret from the others until then.

That particular evening, he, Remus and Peter had all been invited for dinner by the Potters.

********************

Sirius made sure the cover was draped over the bike and went to the door and knocked.

James's muffled voice came from inside. "Get in here! You're late, Padfoot."

He grinned and flung the door open, striding inside and looking like the cat that ate the canary.

Peter looked up from where he was examining the crib that James was about to put together. "Uh oh. I know THAT look," he teased. "What've you done, now?"

"Done? Why whatever do you mean, dear Peter?" Sirius gave them all the most innocent look he could muster, which was immediately replaced by the grin again.

Lily poked her head out of the kitchen. "I thought I heard you, Sirius." She came into the living room to greet him, walking a bit slower than normal with one hand supporting her lower back.

Sirius's eyes went wide. "Merlin's beard, woman! Are you sure there's just one in there?" He indicated her very large belly under the apron she wore.

"That's what I keep asking the medical witch," she said with a smile. "How are you, Sirius?" She stood on tiptoe to give him a peck on the cheek, and he hugged her gingerly so as not to squeeze her too hard.

"Where's Moony?" he asked, looking around.

"He's lying down in the guest room until dinner," James answered quietly from where he had the crib's instructions in his hand.

"Migraine," Peter whispered.

Sirius frowned as he remembered the full moon was not far off. "Is it a bad one?"

"Nah," James replied, "he's fine. Okay, I think I've got this now." He raised his wand and cleared his throat.

"James, you've barely glanced at the instructions," Lily admonished him. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

James rolled his eyes a little as Peter and Sirius smiled at each other. He ignored his wife, and uttered the spell to assemble the crib. Bars, and legs, and a headboard all rose up from the floor and began locking in place as the crib assembled itself.

He turned triumphantly to his wife. "There," he said with a smile, "good as done."

Lily stood there, tongue in cheek, trying not to laugh. "I think you'd better give those instructions to Sirius," she said wryly. She went back to the kitchen.

James turned around to glance at the tangled monstrosity he'd created in the middle of the living room and started to laugh, along with Sirius and Peter. "Never was very handy about the house," he said, wrinkling his nose up a little. He put the instructions aside and his wand in his pocket.

"Speaking of handy," Sirius said, "how long before dinner's ready?" he asked very quietly.

"Ten minutes," Lily called from the kitchen, (where she still heard him) before James could reply.

James rolled his eyes again and dropped to a hushed whisper. "If you thought they hear everything before..." he glanced furtively at the kitchen and spoke softer still. "She hears _everything_ now."

"I heard that," Lily called from the kitchen.

Sirius and Peter snickered, and then looked up as Remus walked into the room.

"Hi, Sirius," he said with a tired smile.

"Moony, you look like shit," Sirius said, crossing to the werewolf and putting his arm around his shoulders.

"Thanks, Padfoot. Good to see you too," Remus chuckled.

Sirius looked Remus in the eye for a moment. "She's done," he announced quietly.

Remus looked blankly at him for a second and then his eyes went wide. "Really? Is she here?"

Sirius nodded, back to wearing the grin again.

"Is who here?" Peter asked.

Remus managed a grin. "Padfoot here has a new lady in his life."

"Not _another_ one!" James and Peter said together.

"Outside?" Remus asked.

"Who's outside?" Lily asked from the kitchen.

"Sirius has a new..." James broke off as he saw Sirius and Remus shaking their heads and waiving at him to shut up.

James knew better than to ask at that moment. He ignored Lily's question and called to her in the kitchen. "We're going outside for a minute, Lil."

"Okay, but dinner's in five," she called back.

The four wizards went out into the front yard.

"What is that?" Peter asked, spotting the blue drape over something in the yard.

James stood there quietly, knowing something big was up.

Sirius went to stand next to the blue drape, and drew his wand. "Gents," he said proudly, "I'd like to introduce you to... Jolene."

He pointed his wand, and the drape flung itself off, revealing the motorcycle underneath.

"A motorcycle?" Peter asked, looking a bit confused.

James raised his eyebrows behind his glasses for a moment and then started to smile. "Just what have you done, Padfoot?"

Sirius grinned. "Isn't she a beauty? She's custom job, from her pipes to her climate control charm."

"You've charmed the thing?" Peter asked.

Sirius nodded. "Uh huh."

Remus spoke up next. "Climate control charm? And what else?"

Sirius opened his mouth, and then shut it and glanced warily at the house. "Can Lily..?"

James held a finger up to his lips, and all four huddled.

Sirius dropped his voice. "She flies," was all he said.

"No!" Came three hushed replies.

"Oh yes," Sirius said.

"Truly?" James asked, studying the bike.

Sirius nodded. "Wanna go for a spin?"

The eyes lit up behind the dark-rimmed glasses. "That would be so..."

"What is _that_?"

Lily's voice came from behind the men huddled around the Harley.

All four stood bolt upright and stepped in front of the bike.

"A motorcycle?" offered James.

Lily looked from face to face, assessing the looks that each of them wore, and then she stepped forward to get a closer look at the bike. "This is yours?" she asked Sirius.

Sirius nodded.

Lily scrutinized the blue and chrome contraption for a moment longer, and then looked directly back at Sirius. "It flies, doesn't it?" she asked accusingly.

Sirius's mouth fell open. "Did you hear us from the kitchen?" he asked in awe.

"My hearing's not that good," she said, now starting to smile. "I just know _you_, Sirius Black. It would be just the sort of thing that would amuse you."

********************

Sirius smiled to himself. Lily had been right - it was just the sort of thing that had amused him.

_Had_ amused him.

He wondered where Jolene was now. Last he saw her, it was...Halloween. That fateful, terrible Halloween. He'd given the bike to Hagrid and...

_'I wonder if Hagrid still has her?'_ he asked himself, trying to keep his mind on the Harley and from wandering to the events of that night.

Sirius felt his ears pop again, and he knew that they must be dropping even lower. He'd been on the plane for quite a while, but more than that, he didn't know.

_'Should be interesting to see where we end up_,' he mused, and then he realized that there was a chance he could be spotted when they came to unload the cargo hold. Well, the dog would have to be ready to make a run for it, wherever they landed.

*

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*

*

It was near dinnertime when Matilda finally woke on the beach.

She looked around her blearily, noting that there were a lot fewer people out here by the water than there were a few hours earlier. Thank goodness she had given herself a good coating of the sunscreen, or she would have been roasted after falling asleep for so long.

She sat gazing at the turquoise water for a few minutes, deciding that she would head back to her room to shower and then go in search of something to eat. She threw her book back in her bag and headed back to Sebastian's.

She was nearly off the sand when the low-flying plane passing overhead caused her to look up. _'Must be another charter heading into Beef Island Airport_,' she thought, and she walked back inside her room.

Matilda showered quickly and changed into a teal silk shirt and white linen pants, and headed for the dining room. Eating by herself in a restaurant wasn't something she did often, and it took a bit of courage to get over the awkwardness of asking for a table for one. Thankfully it wasn't crowded, and she saw that there was at least one other person dining solo.

Sebastian's was know for some of the finest Caribbean cuisine on the island, and Matilda ordered a conch salad and the chef's special ginger chicken that turned out to be fantastic. She was too full to indulge in dessert, but she took some of Sebastian's rum coffee out onto the palm- fringed terrace where she found a seat that looked out over the ocean.

She took a sip of coffee and laid her head back against the chair and sighed contentedly as she closed her eyes. Excellent dinner, great coffee, wonderful breeze, the sound of the waves...the perfect relaxing evening. This was just what she needed, and...

"Scuse me, but is this seat taken?" a man's voice.

Matilda hesitated for just a moment and groaned inwardly. This was just not what she needed. All she wanted was to sit and relax.

She opened her eyes and then lifted them to meet the gaze of one of the tallest men she'd ever met. He must have stood six foot six, and had a thick mustache and a hat that he held in his hands politely.

A cowboy hat.

_'Oh dear.'_

"Sorry, if I'm disturbin' you, but I couldn't help noticin' that you were out here sittin' alone on this beautiful ev'nin'." He flashed her a sweet smile and then moved to sit in the chair across from her before she'd even had time to react.

"Name's Bill. Bill Travers."

He held out one extremely large hand, and Matilda saw hers disappear as she shook it.

"Matilda Dyer. Nice to meet you," she said politely, even as she screamed in her head _'go away, go away, go away!'  
_  
"Well, now, Matilda you sound like you must a good ol' 'merican girl to me." Bill leaned much closer and lowered his voice a little. "Where all are you from?"

Matilda smiled patiently. "Maine."

"Maine! Why you're a-way up there in the corner!" Bill announced jovially. "See if you can guess where I'm from."

Matilda didn't even have to look at the boots he wore with his wranglers.

"Texas?" she ventured.

"HA!" Bill slapped her playfully on the knee. "How'd you guess?"

Matilda's eyes went from the embroidered shirt back to the hat he held. "I guess it's because you have a little bit of an accent." She smiled the most tolerant smile she could muster as she rubbed her knee.

"So, can I get you another?" Bill indicated the mug she was holding.

Matilda's first reaction to another rum coffee was 'no', but as it occurred to her that Bill was settling in to his own chair comfortably, she realized it was probably going to be just the thing she needed.

Oblivious or uncaring as to whether he was welcome or not, Bill ventured on forward. "So what's a perty lil' thing like you doin down here all by yer lonesome?" He scooted his chair a bit closer.

She sighed. It was going to be a long evening, and she was getting the impression that they grew some awfully big amphibians in Texas.

*

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*

A/N: "Bill" is the spitting image of a guy that I went to college with and absolutely adored, and his appearance is in no way intended to make fun of Texans or Texas. I am not one to say anything about other people's accent since I have been informed that I now am starting to sound at times like a true Mainer.


End file.
